


No Longing for the Moonlight

by ronans



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Apple Bobbing Tension, Halloween, House Party, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: Their fingers overlap as they both grip the edge of the bucket and maybe Eliott squeezes a bit harder than necessary. Maybe Lucas squeezes back, too.





	No Longing for the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> title: future starts slow - the kills

It starts with a round of shots that taste like nail polish remover.

‘How do you even know what that tastes like?’ Idriss coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The toilet paper wrapped around it wilts and he curses to himself.

Eliott shrugs and downs his second vodka, wincing as the alcohol stings his chapped lips. A dribble escapes down his chin, taking a strip of makeup with it. ‘Educated guess.’

Idriss closes his eyes briefly, gearing up for the third attack. Another round of clinking shot glasses and burning throats. 

‘You guys are idiots,’ Sofiane murmurs, scrolling through his specially curated Halloween playlist.

‘You say that now, but I know for a_ fact _ all of the strong stuff’s gonna be gone by the time we get there.’ He sends a pointed glare over to Eliott. ‘Maybe we wouldn’t have to drink like we’re first years if _ someone _had got ready in time.’

Eliott- a little wobbly on his feet now- raises his hands in innocence, ‘Hey… worth it.’

‘He’s right; he does look dead,’ Sofiane comments with a grin as _Monster Mash _ begins to blare tinnily from his phone speaker.

‘DJ, I have a request,’ Idriss says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the phone.

‘Nope,’ Sofiane dismisses, stumbling towards Idriss with a pretty accurate zombie impression. The costume doesn’t hurt either. Eliott chuckles at Idriss’ comically unsettled expression and then decides to pour out more shots.

‘Eliott, please don’t be too wasted for your first kiss with Lucas,’ Sofiane warns, giving up on his pursuit of Idriss.

‘Sofiane, please don’t be so obsessed with mothering me that you miss your first kiss with Imane,’ he bats back. It has the desired effect; a bright blush and a loud, familiar laugh.

‘Seriously, though, man… the tension,’ Idriss leans over the kitchen island to poke at Eliott’s ribs. ‘I can feel it in your bones, he’s gonna kiss you tonight.’

‘What do you- oh,’ Eliott cuts himself off. He snickers and pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘How many skeleton jokes have you been saving up?’

‘You didn’t give me much time to prepare, but I’d say about thirty six.’

‘That’s weirdly specific, should I keep a tally to make sure?’ says Sofiane.

Idriss places a hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re gonna be the only one sober enough, so I vote yes.’

‘Speaking of sober.’ Eliott offers a final shot to the other boy who simply groans and grudgingly clinks his glass against Eliott’s before necking it.

***

The bitter autumn breeze turns out to be a lot more sobering than Eliott would have liked, but he’s still moderately tipsy by the time they reach Emma’s house.

Idriss- who’s already lost half of his costume to the wind and looks more ‘victim of an unfortunate bullying incident’ than ‘preserved Pharaoh’ at this point- taps the _ Enter at your own risk _ sign on the door in drunken amusement before twisting the handle and barreling inside. 

Immediately, they’re consumed by the heat of the hallway and a too-loud Halloween mix, but it causes something like anticipation to sit in Eliott’s bones. He buzzes with it.

‘Boys, you’re just in time!’ Daphné calls, materialising in the living room doorway. They share a curious glance amongst themselves before making their way over to her.

‘In time for what?’

She grabs hold of Eliott’s wrist once he’s close enough and drags him over to a circle of familiar faces. The room’s a lot less crowded than he expected, but he can hear distant cheers from the other side of the house.

His friends immediately find their place next to Imane, Alexia and Arthur, leaving Eliott to bear the brunt of Daphné’s specific brand of excited energy.

‘We’re about to start an apple bobbing competition!’ she explains. And, yeah, now Eliott spots the makeshift cauldron in the middle of the room, filled with a mixture of apples toffee and otherwise.

And then there’s Lucas, slightly obscured and leaning against Yann on the outskirts of the circle. They find each other, though. They always find each other. Because they’ve been balancing on a possibility for a while now. 

Eliott doesn’t miss the casual once-over Lucas gives to his costume and he repays the favour instantly.

He’s in all white, and it suits him, suits him so much Eliott aches to tell him. Even his hair’s dusted with glow-in-the-dark dye, blue eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner, and they _ pop_, beg Eliott to come over, to tap his fingertips gently across the stars on his cheeks.

Eliott swallows instead and accepts the beer Emma places in his hand.

Lucas pats Yann’s shoulder, tips his head and then properly joins the group. Half of his beer’s already gone.

‘Okay, so everyone just write down your names,’ Daphné says, beaming as she hands everyone in the circle a neon orange post-it note. Eliott eyes Sofiane and Idriss suspiciously as they whisper into a couple of the girls’ ears before focusing on writing his own name down, folding it up, and placing it in the plastic skull Daphné’s using as a bowl. She practically skips around the room collecting everyone else’s papers, narrowly avoiding getting trapped in conversation with an already drunk Basile. The other half of Eliott’s beer disappears around about the same time he gets lost in the glitter decorating Lucas’ hair.

‘Eliott and… Lucas!’

_ That _snaps him out of it. ‘Huh?’ 

Daphné glances around the room awkwardly and then holds up the paper. His name sits boldly in the centre, looking strangely unfamiliar.

‘You’re up first.’

Lucas is already positioned opposite, slender fingers drumming against the side of the cauldron and lips pulled into a grin. Eliott gulps, darts his eyes over to a too content looking Idriss and Sofiane, places his empty bottle on the mantelpiece behind him, and inches forward. 

‘First one to get an apple and drop it in here-’ she gestures to a pumpkin-shaped pot, ‘-wins! No hands, though.’

‘Sounds easy,’ Lucas says, staring right at Eliott.

‘It’s on, Lallemant,’ he manages to reply.

The water’s way too cold when they dip their faces in, and Eliott idly wonders if he went for the waterproof makeup in the end. He bets he didn’t.

Their fingers overlap as they both grip the edge of the bucket and maybe Eliott squeezes a bit harder than necessary. Maybe Lucas squeezes back, too.

Their gazes lock as their mouths search for purchase, apples and lips glistening, teeth grazing slick skin and watered down face paints. Eliott’s cheek skims against Lucas’ and it’s teasing, tender, then razor sharp as he sinks into an apple. He really wishes he could make this dance last longer but he’s gasping for breath.

Then again, he thinks maybe he really is drowning as Lucas brushes a kiss against his cheekbone just as he comes up for air.

Eliott’s on the verge of panting when he drops the apple in the pumpkin bowl, eyes feral as Lucas whips his hair back and smudges paint into his skin where he wipes at his mouth.

‘Ahh! You won!’ Daphné squeals, clapping her hands together before throwing a candy necklace over his head. Eliott shakes himself out of his Lucas-study, not failing to catch the smirk in the corner of the other boy’s mouth. He _ so _knows what he’s doing.

‘Let’s see who’s next.’ 

It’s effortless when Lucas strolls over to him, stands beside him with a white hand hovering barely a millimeter away from his own. He feels like he’s burning at the mere suggestion of his touch.

‘Uh… Eliott... again… playing against- okay, Eliott, how many times did you put your name in the bowl?’

Eliott frowns and flicks his gaze instinctively towards Lucas. ‘Once, I swear.’

He’s biting his bottom lip to hold in a laugh. Eliott follows his eyeline and spots Idriss and Sofiane, arms slung over each others’ shoulders and grinning way too smugly.

_ Ah. There it is. _

Daphné sighs and empties the contents of the skull directly onto the floor, a cascade of black and orange _ Eliott and Lucas _scribbles. Eliott reaches into his back pocket for his tobacco and wiggles it in a silent question. Lucas squints at him for a moment before smiling softly and nodding. It’s somewhat of a tradition for them to sneak away at every party, but it never happens this early. Maybe he’s finally ready to stop toeing the line. 

They weave their way through the house to the tune of _ Ghost Town _ and Daphné’s chagrined pleas for _ someone to just tell her where she put her damn post-it notes _.

When they reach the kitchen, Eliott grabs them both another beer. They’re warm and dripping with long since melted ice, but Lucas accepts it like it’s the most romantic gift Eliott could have ever bestowed upon him.

The romance shatters as soon as Eliott opens the back door and practically jumps to another continent, the door having somehow gained the ability to speak in screams.

‘What the fuck?!’

Lucas barely keeps himself from falling to the ground howling as Eliott’s heart hammers in his chest. 

‘Stop,’ Eliott groans, though his heart’s now switched from a reaction of terror to slightly love-struck levels of speeding.

When Lucas eventually recovers, he lifts a shoulder and then points at the motion sensor tucked neatly against the doorjamb. ‘Emma loves Halloween.’

‘_Emma’s _ paying for my tombstone,’ he breathes.

Thankfully, they make it into the yard without further incident. It’s oddly calm considering the growing chaos inside, bathed in moonlight and orange from the bulbs spread among the trees.

Lucas’ fingertips flirt with the back of his hand as they walk through the rose bushes and weeds, finding a spot up against the garden wall. There it is again, the buzz under his skin just waiting to ripple outwards.

‘So…’ Lucas starts. Eliott smiles as he plants his beer bottle next to his feet and begins rolling a cigarette. ‘A mummy, a zombie, and a skeleton walk into a high school party…’

He’s not proud, but he lets out what could be considered a snort and half of the tobacco falls out of his paper to be lost in the grass.

‘What happens next?’

Lucas hums and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. ‘...It’s not funny.’

Eliott narrows his eyes and darts his tongue out to lick the paper, watching Lucas’ gaze drop to his mouth. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I didn’t think of a punchline.’

Eliott titters and lights his cigarette, drawing in smoke. ‘I’m disappointed, Lucas.’

‘Sorry. I can at least tell you what happens to the skeleton, though.’

‘Hm, what?’

‘He gets a boner.’

Suddenly, there’s no air in Eliott’s lungs until there’s _ too _ much and he’s hacking up half of his insides. Lucas, _ fucking Lucas_, just casually leans back against the garden wall and observes Eliott’s slow and painful death with merely a quirk of an eyebrow and a satisfied smirk.

‘That was terrible,’ Eliott forces out once he’s recovered. 

Lucas laughs and it’s beautiful. Eliott lets it settle in his ears and commits it to memory like every other one before it.

‘What are you dressed up as, anyway?’ Eliott asks as he fumbles to relight his cigarette. The white face paint could point to a ghost, but the scattering of stardust across his cheeks suggests otherwise. 

Lucas rolls his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugs. ‘The moon.’

And Eliott thinks _ perfect, perfect, perfect, he’s perfect. _

‘I once married the moon.’

‘What?’ Lucas asks through another laugh. 

He beams and nods, sucking on his filter. ‘Why are you so shocked? Didn’t you ever have one of those fake weddings behind the bike shelters when you were little?’

Lucas’ brow wrinkles. ‘Well, yeah, but I…’

Eliott raises an eyebrow, waiting. He can feel the cheap face paint crack with the movement. Lucas shakes his head, blush peeking out from his own thin layer of paint.

‘Nope; I’d rather you stay looking like the weird kid, here. You married the fucking moon.’

Eliott almost chokes again on his cigarette smoke. ‘Yes, I married the fucking moon. C’mon, why were _ you _ weird?’

Lucas groans and covers his face with his hands. The visible patches of bare fingertips look red from the cold as he mumbles into them. Eliott grins and tips his head forward, squinting as if that would help his ears hear better. 

‘Sorry, what was that?’

Lucas heaves a sigh and rests his head back against the wall. His eyes almost glow in the orange light from one of the pumpkin lanterns strung up in the trees above. It casts a beautiful hue across the white UV dye in his hair and Eliott’s mesmerised all over again.

‘I said I was the organ player.’

And Eliott fully chokes this time. ‘You were the _ what_?’

Lucas chuckles and rolls his eyes before plucking the cigarette from Eliott’s fingers and placing it between his own lips. His voice comes out husky. ‘I didn’t want to marry any of the girls, so.’ He shrugs again with a huff of smoke. ‘I figured every wedding needed an organ player,’ he giggles, head tilted.

Eliott can’t quite believe he’s real. ‘Well, I would have loved for you to have played the air organ at my wedding.’

‘It could still happen,’ Lucas murmurs, irises glinting in the low-light. Eliott’s pretty sure he can physically feel his pupils dilate as Lucas lets the last of the vapor trail from his mouth. He barely has time to blink before Lucas is dropping the cigarette, pushing himself off the wall and crowding his space. A gentle tug at the candy chain around his neck and then Lucas is asking, ‘Can I have one?’

Eliott’s certain his soul leaves his body as Lucas places the necklace between his teeth and bites down. He flinches, eyes trained on Lucas’ lips, as the candy snaps and the string drops and thumps back against his chest. Inside the house, the song changes, a heavy bass fit to rattle the windowpanes but he’s barely aware of it. It’s only Lucas and the dim lights and the places where their costumes brush against each other.

‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Lucas throws into the air between them. Eliott lets it sit, watches tendrils of smoke and condensation and he leans forward. A caress of noses that creates a new crater on the surface of the moon and plasters over a skull fracture all at once.

Lucas threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of Eliott’s neck and pulls him ever closer until he can’t be sure whether their lips are touching or not. It’s the seek for warmth and an end to the teasing that finally does it, finally has Eliott closing the gap and cradling the stars stretching across Lucas’ skin in just the way he’s wanted to since he first saw them. 

He tastes like the powdery sweets that still rest around his neck and a little noxious- a strange, heady mix that matches the lethal way they always look at each other, matches the way that the dried paint continues to crack as they move together. 

Eliott wishes he could feel the softness of Lucas’ hair as he runs his hands through it, but it’s caked in paint too and they’re making a mess but it’s the most brilliant release after the weeks and weeks of waiting.

And, again, he thinks _ he’s perfect_.

They fit so well together he already feels at home in the dip of Lucas’ upper lip, the gaps between his fingers and the trills of his muscles when he moves.

And even later, when they eventually break apart, all Eliott knows as he follows Lucas’ ridiculous luminous hair back into the party is that he’d marry the moon again in a heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween!! i'm severely sleep deprived so i'm sorry if this sucks!! hhhh  
the organ playing at the bike shed weddings? deffo not taken from my own experience. like, absolutely not.  
[tumblr](http://cheloueliott.tumblr.com)


End file.
